


Coma

by TheStrangeSeaWolf



Series: Darkness and Light [10]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: (at least I guess so), Acceptance, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Brain Damage, Coma, Difficult Decisions, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, Love doesn't need words, POV Twelfth Doctor, Paternoster Gang, Post-Episode: s09e02 The Witch's Familiar, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Speechless, Telepathic Bond, data analysis, whouffaldi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-24 08:30:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21096476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheStrangeSeaWolf/pseuds/TheStrangeSeaWolf
Summary: After having found out what restores the vital force of the Doctor all things should turn out for the best - but do they?





	1. The Decision

**Author's Note:**

> I always thought that the probes did some damage. Here's my take on this.  
"Darkness and Light" always interchanges between the point of view of Clara and the Doctor. This story has to be told from the Doctor's view as a whole for obvious reasons, that's why it has chapters.

As they sat in the TARDIS kitchen, eating lasagna from New Tuscany the Doctor wondered if he would ever be able to bring himself to say Clara how much he loved her properly, face to face. He still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that she loved him. He was sure the chances were one billion to one, if not less.

But there she was, eating her lasagna in her distinct ladylike manner, sometimes looking up to give him one of her beautiful smiles and soft glances. They made his whole body feel warm, from his toes to the roots of his hair. Like warm sunbeams after a cold night.

“Shall we check if our bonding had the desired effect on your health?” She asked after they finished.

He nodded. In fact, right at this moment he would have done anything she would have suggested. Analyzing data. Going out adventuring. Baking a cake. Jumping a cliff. Attending the Ring of the Nibelungen/Game of Thrones Crossover Festival on Erkmat 7. Well, probably not the latter. But everything else. 

As they started for the console room, he realized that he had a tendency to walk close to her. Closer than before, nearly brushing shoulders. Odd. Maybe it was because he knew she accepted, even loved him and therefore wouldn’t take the close contact wrong? Maybe because he wasn’t so afraid that his thoughts were leaking? Maybe he had secretly wanted to be closer to her for ages, but his fear held him back until now?

He realized that he wanted to feel her even closer. As things were, she probably wouldn’t be cross if he took her hand, would she? He sneaked his hand in her hand. A short, surprised side glance from her before she gave him a reassuring squeeze. It never occurred to him how perfectly their hands fit together until now.

The TARDIS made a noise that sounded suspiciously like “Aw, look at those adorable idiots” and he suspected her to make the corridor to the console room longer on purpose. Finally, they reached it.

“Dear TARDIS, can you update the vital force graph for me?”

The ship hummed and beeped when she displayed the graph.

[](https://ibb.co/M8W9xxd)

He heard Clara exhaling a long, relieved breath.

“It works, Doctor. Vital force up to 55%. This should have stopped your body from considering regeneration, if Roskatha was right. But let’s be sure.”

She drew the sunglasses from her pocket. He wondered if she would ever give them back to him. He didn’t mind. She looked good with sunglasses. Maybe a bit large. Maybe he could make her sonic sunglasses that suit her round face better and matched her dressing style. He was good at making things. Especially when the TARDIS helped him.

“Yep, no more ‘Calculation for need of regeneration running…‘ message. I think if we carry on with the treatment, you should be fine in a short while.”

She gave a relieved sigh.

Then, suddenly he saw how Clara’s legs gave way and she slumped to the floor. Luckily, he was quick enough to catch her shoulders before her head could hit the console floor. 

He held her limp body in his arms, bustling to check for signs of life. Her breathing was shallow, but even. He reached for her throat to check her pulse. It was barely noticeable.

He tried desperately not to panic. Failing miserably. Both his hearts pounded at maximum speed; he could feel it in his throat. His thoughts were racing. He couldn’t lose her. Not now. Not like that. He scooped her in his arms. He had some difficulties to lift her up, but after a few attempts he had her safely in his arms, heading for the medbay.

He laid her on the examination table, trying his best to make it as comfortable as possible for her. Then he took the sunglasses from her eyes, putting them on. The readings showed a deep unconsciousness, close to a coma. But the sunglasses didn’t come up with a diagnosis.

“Old girl, I need your help more than I ever needed it. Please, tell me what is wrong with Clara. Help her, please help her.”

He pleaded. The TARDIS hummed and beeped as she ran every examination protocol she had over and over again. First for humans, then for any other humanoid species she found in her database. She beeped in frustration as she couldn’t come up with a diagnosis or at least an explanation for Clara’s state.

His hands were trembling as he stroked Clara’s head and cheek.

“Please, stay with me, I can’t lose you. Not now. Not until I could at least find the courage to tell you how I feel out loud. Please, please, stay strong, stay alive.”

The TARDIS hummed and indicated with lights that the Doctor should go to the console room. He ignored her pleading. Instead he took Clara’s hand and kissed it. The TARDIS beeped. He didn’t want to leave Clara’s side. Finally the TARDIS induced a slight vibration under the Doctor’s feet and hummed something that could only be interpreted as “For God’s sake, Doctor, you don’t save her life by moaning at her side, get up your arse and go to the console room.”

He got up. He bowed down and placed a kiss on Clara’s forehead.

“Stay strong, Clara, my Clara, I’ll get something to help you, I promise. Just… just, stay with me!”

The TARDIS hummed a soft “I’ll keep the watch over her, my thief, don’t worry” noise.

Finally, he headed for the console room.

“Fine, I’m where you wanted me to be, now what should I do?” He shouted at his ship.

The TARDIS beeped, and then he saw that she already had set coordinates. All he had to do was pull the lever, which he did, not knowing where they were heading to. He trusted his ship. If she was so eager, she had decided that somewhere in space and time was someone able to help Clara.

Moments later the TARDIS materialized in Victorian London, in the dining room of a house in the Paternoster Row. As he stumbled out of the door, Madame Vastra, Jenny and Strax looked at him with surprise, sitting at the dinner table.

“Clara. Slumped. Unconsciousness. Help.”

Oh, it was a great moment to lose his verbal abilities again.

The three got up immediately and entered the TARDIS, heading for the medbay without hesitation. It was a great comfort to have friends like them. This was the only clear thought that his muddled brain could form. The rest was sheer panic. He trailed after them.

He saw that Madame Vastra bowed over Clara’s body, examining it closely.

“What was she exposed to? Can you tell me something about what happened before she broke down?” she asked.

“This soldier is in a state of shock. Won’t get anything useful out of him, even if you rip his fingernails.” Strax said.

“He’s right, Vastra. Look how pale he is. Besides, have you ever seen this version of the Doctor clothed like this?” Jenny added.

Madame Vastra gave him a surprised stare, obviously just now realizing the state he was in.

“I see. Okay, but I need to know. Sit him in this chair right there, will you, dear?”

He felt Jenny grabbing his arm and leading him to the chair near the examination table, gently forcing him to sit down. Vastra came to him and put her fingers against his temples. He felt her sending calming waves to his brain. He felt his body relax.

Then she forced him to show her what happened the last few hours. He obliged. He showed her what happened on Skaro, that he wanted to die when he thought that Clara was dead, that he let them suck out the regeneration energy. How he freed Clara from the Dalek casing, using more regeneration energy. Then he showed her that he wanted to regenerate and how Clara and the TARDIS intervened. He showed her how they found out how to restore his vital force, using telepathic bonding, right up to the moment Clara broke down.

“Okay, got it.” Vastra got up and went back to the examination table.

“It’s the bonding, isn’t it?” He heard his own voice. It sounded hoarse and shaky. “I restored my vital force with her vital force until she ran out of hers.”

“I wish it was that simple, Doctor.” Madame Vastra replied. “True that telepathic bonding can drain the energy of a human being. Jenny knows best. But in this case, a few hours of uninterrupted sleep can do wonders. Or a few hours of not so uninterrupted sleep, for that matter.”

She smirked at Jenny who smirked back. He was sure he missed a double meaning here. However, the only one who could enlighten him lay death pale on the examination table and even if Vastra had managed to take the immediate panic away telepathically, he was still deeply worried and disturbed.

“What is it, then?”

“I think it were the Dalek probes. They induced some kind of liquid into her cerebrospinal fluid to make the controls work and you were already too weak to get everything out of her system with your regeneration energy. I never saw such a case, which is logical as I never heard about a human in a Dalek casing before. I think the liquid is damaging the brain as both liquids are not compatible, at least that’s my working hypothesis.”

He gulped as he looked up at the Silurian.

“Do you think you can help her?”

“Honestly? I don’t know. What made you think we could help?”

“I didn’t know what to do at all. The TARDIS decided you could.”

“Then we can be pretty sure that there is nobody in the universe who could advise in this case. Otherwise your TARDIS would have brought you to New New York Hospital or another planet with an expert. She’s a clever girl and it seems she came to the conclusion that it’s us who should try.”

She sighed before she continued:

“The only thing I can think of is to do a kind of dialysis with her cerebrospinal fluid, filtering the Dalek liquid out. But this has never been done before, I don’t know if we have all the means to do it and it’s a very risky endeavor.”

“No other option?” He asked, desperately fighting against the panic rising again.

Vastra sighed again. It seemed she steeled herself before she could say what she needed to say. Then she looked him straight in the eyes.

“The good thing is that the human brain itself doesn’t feel pain. I think the Dalek liquid will destroy her brain, but it will be painless. She’s already in a coma. And if she is showing signs of pain, we do have enough Sontaran pain killers to help her. I would assume she would die within days, painless and peaceful.”

His mind refused to process this information. Jenny moved to his side to place her hands on his shoulders. Madame Vastra continued:

“I only see these two options: Either we try to process the Dalek liquid out of her system, something that was never done, and which holds a high risk. The operation might kill her. And we don’t know the consequences if she survives. The operation might damage her brain if it isn’t already damaged. We don’t know which abilities she might have lost when she recovers. She might end up heavily disabled, her personality might change beyond recognition. Or we let her die, knowing that she will do so without regaining consciousness but also that she doesn’t need to suffer.”

Madame Vastra closed her eyes. He feared what she was about to say, as he already knew what was coming.

“Doctor, Clara is not in the state to decide what we should do. I know you are best friends. I even see you as husband and wife, although it seems you both had either not the courage or the will to make it to this stage.”

He felt his hearts cramp at these words.

“But I’m absolutely sure that Clara would trust you with this decision she can’t do for herself.”

He felt as if a cold claw had reached for his hearts and ripped them out of his body. How cruel could the universe be? Just now that he knew Clara accepted and loved him for who he was, it asked him to make an impossible decision. There was a small chance Clara lived, but maybe lived with pain and disabilities, lived as a person that would perhaps not recognize him, not to mention love him. Or he had to let her go, die peacefully and keep the memory of how she had been up until now.

He got up from the chair and went to Clara’s side. She looked so pale and so vulnerable. And so beautiful. It hurt so bad inside. He stood there, the emotions welling up, shaking his whole body. He took her hand in his. Finally, he began to speak.

“My oath is never to be cruel or cowardly. Now, is it cruel to try to save you, my Clara? Or is it cowardly not to try? Is it cruel to let you die or is it cowardly and selfish to try to safe you just so that I can have you near me for a little while longer? If these fine people try to save you and you wake up to a life of pain and maybe deficits because of the damage already done, is it cruel? Is it cowardly to not let them try for the fear of something going wrong? I honestly don’t know. I’m out of my wit and you… you aren’t here to advise me like you always do when I am. I… I only know that I can’t go on without you.”

And with these words he ended his speech to Clara, breaking down, falling to his knees at her side, burying his head on his arms which rested on the table, sobbing.

Nobody dared to speak a word and for minutes, the sobbing of the timelord was the only sound that could be heard in the medbay of the TARDIS. Finally, and much to the surprise of everybody else, Strax began to speak.

“Sir, I know this boy. He’s a fearless warrior and your wingman. And I’m sure he would prefer falling in battle with the Dalek inside instead of giving up and dying peacefully.”

He slowly stood up and turned to face the Sontaran, vision blurred with tears. Even put into the harsh words of a soldier, it seemed very plausible. He looked at Madame Vastra.

“If it was Jenny, what would you do?” He asked and saw the Silurian flinch. Obviously, she had tried very hard not to think about this case from this point of view. She averted his eyes and also the gaze Jenny gave her. He sighed. In many regards Madame Vastra and he were very much alike. He wouldn’t get a proper answer from her – especially as Clara’s life was at her hands if he should decide to give it a try. So, he turned to Jenny.

“Jenny, if you were Clara and provided with both options, what would you decide?”

Jenny, for that matter, seemed to have thought the case through.

“I am a warrior. Like Strax said I would prefer fighting the Dalek inside instead of going gentle into this good night. And if it was not for fighting the Dalek, it would be at least for trying to stay at my Lady’s side, not leaving her alone.” No longer averting her eyes, Vastra looked at Jenny with deep affection.

He closed his eyes and tried to imagine Clara. Whenever he was on his own and confronted with a difficult decision, he would consult her in his mind and ask her for advice. It was hard this time as the image of her lying on the table always tried to block the other pictures. But finally, he could see her, his Clara, who would never give up, who would always try, who would always have hope and always find a way.

“I think you are all right,” he heard himself say. “please, try to save her.”

“Fine!” Madame Vastra exclaimed, clapping her hands. “Strax, off to the workshop, we need to construct a filtering system for the fluid. Jenny, will you take care of the Doctor? I think he could use some tea… and clothes, for that matter.”

That’s when he realized he was still just wearing a t-shirt and his boxers. He blushed. How embarrassing. He went to his room to put on his best clothes, the white shirt, the black trousers and the magician’s coat. He also took the time to brush his teeth, shave and straighten his hair a bit. When Clara woke up, she should see him at his best, not his worst. If she woke up…

He went back to the medbay where Strax already brought some material for a filtering device, while Madame Vastra immersed herself with some testing tubes, probably to find out how to separate the Dalek liquid from the cerebrospinal fluid.

He sneaked past them to get to Clara. He reached for her hand, kneading it. It felt cold. His hearts clenched. She looked so young and so pale.

“Doctor, you better leave. There is nothing you can do at the moment,” he heard Madame Vastra say. He nodded without looking up.

“Clara.” Was all he could manage. He stroked her hair and thought about the battle her body fought against the Dalek liquid. Then, he placed a tender kiss on her forehead. “Clara, I promise to try to be the best man I can manage to be for you if you only stay alive. Please, fight. Fight the Daleks. Fight for me, because I am lost without you.”

He felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Jenny.

“Doctor, we need this room as sterile as possible. Will you come with me for some tea in our kitchen?”

Reluctantly he let go of Clara’s hand. He gave her a last affectionate look, before he turned to follow Jenny out of the TARDIS.


	2. The Awakening

He sat in Madame Vastra’s kitchen, stirring his tea for the umpteenth time. He couldn’t keep his thoughts focused on anything and he didn’t feel like making conversation.

Jenny tried hard to distract him by telling him about their latest cases and current British politics. He was thankful for her attempts but couldn’t bring himself to more than a nod or a grunt.

Finally, Madame Vastra entered, and he got up immediately, desperately fishing for words to ask.

“How is she?” He managed.

“Well, the device is running. It will take some time; we need to go really slow with the filtering to make sure we catch every molecule of that Dalek liquid. Turns out if only one molecule is left it can multiply and infest the whole system again. I guess this is why you weren’t able to fix it with your regeneration energy. There were still some molecules left.”

He paced the room. Patience wasn’t his strong suit and being condemned to wait was getting on his nerves.

“You need something stronger than tea. Come over to the living room while Jenny does the dishes.”

Jenny made a hissing sound at her, followed by an understanding smile and a wink.

Madame Vastra poured some whisky in two tumblers.

“Coastline Distillery, New Caledonia 2, 36 years old. Young for both our understanding of time, but a good one, I can assure you.”

Both took a sip and sat in silence in two opposite leather armchairs, staring at the fireplace. She hadn’t promised too much, it was an excellent whisky although he doubted there would be enough of it to soothe his ragged nerves. Let alone fill the deep emptiness he felt inside.

“How do you cope with it?” He finally asked.

“With what?”

“Losing them. You are older than me, even if you don’t count the phases of hibernation. How do you cope with losing the ones you love? Over and over again?”

Madame Vastra stared at a spot that seemed to be somewhere a thousand miles behind his head.

“I don’t,” she finally said. “They die and it hurts. Hurts as much as it hurt the first time. Becomes a little less acute with time but doesn’t really go away.”

“I appreciate your honesty.” He really did.

“I’ve been married three times. My first wife was a Silurian like me. Died in a stupid accident. I thought I’d never love again. Then, eventually, I found someone who made me feel special again. Silurian again, you should think that’s a sure-fire way to stay together until the end. No such luck. She became seriously ill. Died only 60 years into our marriage, after some years of slow but steady decay. It hurt so much. I closed myself up for centuries. Stupid in retrospective. If it hadn’t been for Jenny… she showed me I could love again.”

The Silurian downed her whisky. He did the same. She refilled their glasses.

“The point is, Doctor, I shouldn’t have waited so long. I thought I spared me the pain of losing, but the only thing I did was sparing me the joy of being together with someone, sharing the good and the bad things.”

He took a big swig. What Vastra said made his hearts ache even more. If only he had been able to tell Clara earlier how he felt. If he hadn’t been so fearful of her leaving him, maybe it would have all turned out better? Maybe he should have watched for clues that Clara loved him, too? Maybe he should have written her a letter when words failed him?

“If ifs and buts were acorns and nuts, squirrels would have endless guts, Doctor. Old Silurian saying.”

He looked up in surprise. Could she read his mind even from the opposite chair?

“I don’t need telepathy to see what you think. Your face shows. Seriously, Doctor, it helps nobody if you beat yourself up and dwell on what might have been.”

“Can’t help it. Only a few hours ago she confessed that she loved me and now I’m going to lose her already.”

He emptied his glass.

“Only a few hours? Gosh, didn’t you tell her you loved her when you were so severely wounded on Pertinathos?”

He shook his head, thinking back on how he wanted to tell her when he was lying on her sofa. But how he decided he couldn’t bear it if she would send him away then, in his disturbed state. How he settled for not telling her so he could stay close to her. She had looked after his hand and let him stay on the sofa for the night. He hadn’t wanted to lose that comfort.

“Pretty stupid, Doctor. Do better next time.”

She poured his glass again.

Next time. So, she also didn’t believe Clara would make it. He felt the desperation and the self-hatred welling up. He downed his whisky. He threw his glass to the fireplace. It shattered in thousand pieces. Just like Clara had shattered herself in his timeline. An act of love. Of course, for his past self. 

“She’s not dead, Doctor.” He heard Madame Vastra say softly.

“Not yet. Matter of time.” He uttered, still staring at the pieces.

“She’ll survive this. If any human I know has the strength to survive this, it’s her. And if there is anyone able to love you, it’s her. She told me once she thinks she is able to flirt with a mountain range, so you should maybe just believe it.”

He had to smile. That was a typical thing Clara would say. His little egomaniac control freak.

“I still don’t get how she can love me.” He admitted solemnly. 

“When she said the thing with the mountain range, it was shortly after you regenerated. Back then she loved you for what you were – something this incarnation never could have lived up to, no matter how hard you tried. But now, she loves you for what you are, after she has seen you at your best and your worst, which is the purest form of love anyone can get.”

He nodded. He only wished he could have one more time to look into those big brown eyes and tell her how much this meant to him.

“Ma’am, the filtering process is finished.”

He hadn’t noticed Strax had entered the room. The whisky must have weakened his cognitive abilities.

“Fine then,” Vastra said, “ready to visit the patient, Doctor?”

His hearts were racing again. He willed the fear back, nodded and got up.

Strax already put away the filtering device. Clara lay on the table, still as pale as before. One side of her head was shaved, and a bandage went around her head.

“We used the wound from the Dalek probe for extracting the cerebrospinal fluid but had to drill a second hole so we could lead it back in once it was cleansed from the Dalek liquid.” Vastra explained.

He nodded as he let his hand rest tenderly on Clara’s head.

A monitor showed her vital functions. The heart rate was still very low, but she was able to breath by herself. Madame Vastra examined the readings from the monitor and went back to the table with a torch, opening Clara’s eyes for checking the reflexes.

“Can I… can we…” He wanted to ask if they could move her to a more comfortable place. He couldn’t stand seeing her on that cold, sterile examination table. But the words just wouldn’t come out of his mouth.

“I think we can bring her to the guestroom. Strax, tell Jenny to make sure the room is ready and bring the stretcher.”

Strax bowed and left the TARDIS. After a while he came back, setting the stretcher down.

“All is set up for the boy.”

No, he decided, he didn’t want her to be carried on a stretcher up the steep staircase. He knew what he wanted to do. He couldn’t do much to help her but at least he could make sure she wasn’t falling from a stretcher by accident.

“May I?” He asked Vastra, gesticulating his intentions.

“Oh, sure, if you want to. I just disconnect the monitoring systems.”

He went down and scooped her in his arms. He picked her up and made sure her head rested securely on his shoulder. Then he made his way out of the TARDIS and up the staircase to the guestroom where Jenny had already folded back the sheet. He carefully lowered himself down so her back came to rest on the bed before he let her head sink to the pillow, and he could remove his arm. 

Madame Vastra, Jenny and Strax had followed close behind him.

“We made sure that all Dalek liquids are out of her system. However, we still don’t know how much the brain is damaged, Doctor. We have to wait and see. She is still in a coma-like unconsciousness, but at least she breathes all by herself, which is a good sign,” Madame Vastra explained.

“I’m sure you want to keep the watch over her yourself, am I right?” Jenny added. He nodded.

“You can do so but be careful not to disturb her rest. We are rather sure she is strong enough to survive this and her body will do the healing, but she needs time to do so,” Vastra added.

After they left, he considered lying beside her on the bed but decided against it because he feared it might disturb her. Instead he pulled a chair closer to the bed so he could watch her like he had watched her sleep back in the TARDIS when he didn’t know what he should do about his low vital force.

He wondered what he would do when she would not recognize him. When her whole personality had changed. But then again, he doubted he could stop loving her, no matter how much she changed. But wasn’t it the same case when he regenerated? She couldn’t love him the way she loved his previous self. But with time she had fallen in love with his new self. Maybe it would work this way.

He sat like this for hours, thinking things over and over again, never reaching a final conclusion. Suddenly, something interrupted his train of thoughts. Looking closely, he realized that Clara had opened her eyes. He got up slowly, carefully, as if she would close them again when he was acting too hastily.

“Clara?”

He leaned over the bed, looking her in the eyes, hoping to find something he couldn’t name. She looked up to him. He didn’t know what to say. He wanted to know if she recognized him desperately but didn’t know how to word it and didn’t want to overwhelm her.

“How are you feeling?” He managed instead.

She looked around the room questioning.

“We are in the Paternoster Row. You had a breakdown. But they helped. They brought you back to me. Everything is alright now.”

He really hoped he was right. Her eyes went back to him. He couldn’t help it, he had to ask.

“Do you recognize me?”

She looked into his eyes. Then she smiled at him and a small hand emerged from under the duvet to weakly cup his cheek. Both his hearts jumped. She recognized him. He took her hand from his cheek and kissed it gently.

“I’m going to inform the rest of the gang that you are awake. But don’t stay awake if you don’t feel like it. You need the rest, my Clara.”

He placed a kiss on her head before he headed for the door. Moments later he came back, joined by Madame Vastra.

Vastra examined Clara closely while he hovered round the bed, clenching his fists nervously, not able to keep his feet still.

Finally, Vastra got up and stopped his aimless pacing. She gestured him to follow her outside.

When he closed the door, she said:

“It seems she’s stable so far. I don’t know why she can’t speak. It might be it’s only a blocking, like an amnesia. Then, the ability might return in the next few days or weeks. But it’s more likely that the Dalek liquid has destroyed parts of the speech area or destroyed it completely. It is sometimes possible to relearn to speak, but it takes time and patience. Depending on which area was damaged, it might not be possible at all. Sorry, Doctor.”

It only took him a moment to process this information and come to a conclusion.

“It doesn’t matter. She’s alive and she recognizes me, that’s all I need to know. I’m rather sure she will learn to boss me around in sign language in no time.”

Vastra smiled at him and he smiled back. He turned to go back inside, but there was still one thing that made him nervous.

“Vastra, there is one thing… it’s… it’s kind of personal…”

She looked at him and understood. She placed her hands on his temples.

He showed her how uncomfortable he felt when Missy snogged him and how it had caused no reaction whatsoever from his body other than shock, while it would have caused an involuntary sexual reaction in all his previous incarnations.

Madame Vastra understood his fear.

“I wouldn’t worry about it too much. But one question, Doctor… Would it make a difference in how you feel for Clara if she told you she can’t be with you like a woman usually would be with a man?”

“Of course not! I would be happy enough if she would let me stay at arm’s length if only it was with her.”

“Then, what makes you think she would feel any different about it?”

He hadn’t looked at it from this perspective. Maybe she was right, and he worried too much about it, especially as it was a worry for the future. And that he could actually worry about a future to be had together was the really good news today.

“Besides, I really wouldn’t worry about it. Missy didn’t have your consent. It is something completely different when you are with the woman you love. You can take my word for it – like you said, I am much older than you, young grasshopper.” She winked at him. 

He smiled as he went back into the room.

Clara seemed asleep. The monitor showed an even and steady heartbeat and she looked relaxed. He was about to sit in his chair again when she opened her eyes. Immediately he was at her side. She patted on the bed right beside her. He scooted to the other side of the bed and laid down. She pulled at his arm and tapped on her left shoulder. He reached around her to pull her carefully in his embrace.

“I just told Madame Vastra that you will find a way to boss me around in sign language in no time, seems you already worked that one out,” he smiled down at his wonderful, clever, brave, small, roundish, reckless, beautiful, perfect, impossible girl and before he could stop himself he placed a kiss on her lips. He backed away quickly, but she grabbed his lapel to pull him back to her lips.

If he ever had doubts that she loved and wanted this version of him – and, dear Gallifrey, he had had them – this kiss made them disappear. He felt that she laid everything she felt for him into this kiss and he answered with his feelings for her. And so, their lips told the story of two complicated characters that were meant to be together. They told the story of difficult times and misunderstandings, but also of mutual care and acceptance. It was a story of taking control and giving up control, of lies and truth, of losing and finding, of uncertainty and trust, of betrayal and forgiveness, all with the overarching theme of holding on to each other in good and bad times.

The darkness that had held his hearts tight was pushed away and they pounded in a flood of gleaming light. A warmth filled his body that diminished the gloom and the coldness of centuries of pain. The darkness didn’t go away, as it was a part of him, but it wasn’t in control anymore. It was as if he had only seen the black hole so far, but now he saw the whole galaxy that surrounded it.

Then finally, they parted lips, and looked into each other’s eyes. They didn’t need to say the words. They didn’t need any words at all. No more. After all this time they could read each other’s minds, without barriers or doors for protection.

Whatever came next, they would figure it out together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it. That's my take on what happened after the Witch's Familiar and why we see the Doctor much more relaxed and more accepting towards himself afterwards. That man has stared down quite a few of his demons with Clara's help.
> 
> We can assume that Clara has regained her ability to speak somewhere before the events of "Under The Lake". The rest, of course, is up to your phantasy. 
> 
> This was the story I wanted to tell. Feel free to comment with some prompts if you feel I should write something else, especially concerning events taking place throughout season 8/9.
> 
> For now, thank you for your kind attention.


End file.
